"I can't do it anymore," she declares.
"That's why we kept telling you not to yell so loud for the last three days, Dear," we reminded her. "Now you are wishing for energy, and you are tired."
"We will give you an IV," we try to sweetly tell her. But that doesn't help a bit.
And then awhile later we added labor inducer to the dripping fluid. Still no results.
"I think the baby's heartbeat sounds weaker," Marcile stated. That was when we decided to head for TiGoave with the tired woman.
As we bounced through numerous market places with lots of onlookers, we hoped and prayed that the baby would not decide to be born there. Needless to say, the lady's continual ear-splitting yells made a wonderful siren for us, and donkies and humans alike scuffled to the side of the road to let us past.
Dust flew. Julian was driving like a racer, and we hung on hard. "Go Julian!" we yelled.
We arrived in TiGoave, where we placed the lady in the hands of some Haitian nurses, who later pursued a Cesarean section delivery. We breathed a happy half sigh, as we mounted the little Husquavarna, and waved good-bye to the family.
"Thank-you so much!" they called to us.
We bounded back up the trail. Four of our normal white staff were gone already, and we felt the responsibility drooping down on our shoulders to hurry home, especially on a busy Friday. Whitney had gone home short notice to attend her grandma's funeral, and both Mali and Kindra were needed to help step our five seriously ill patients through their paperwork in Mirebalais.
After trying to help stabilize the patients in our own hospital room, which was filled to the brim, we got news that another pregnant lady was on the way. Marcile and I looked at each other bravely. I think she laughed. And then a girl threw up on the floor. And then another hospital patient's IV ran out.
That amount of drama meant another broken up night. Two of our patients were pronounced as fainting out, so we tried to rejuvenate them, between checking on our new pregnant lady. She was not progressing too well, so we decided we all needed some sleep.
Daybreak dawned. No baby. Oh, no. Not another trip to town. By now, the dark circles under our eyes were becoming shelves. I guess to catch the tears we felt like crying.
We went home for coffee. We came back. We put her on IV. We waited. We cleaned up filthy beds. We gave meds to patients who were waiting on the beds and outside on the benches. Then. we mopped the floor. We took the woman on a huge walk, around and around.
"Let's go home," we said.
"I am dreaming of a cinnamon roll. Wouldn't that be so nice?"
"Exactly," EllaMae said. "And your dream is coming true..."
That was the beginning of the miracle. I had hardly finished my final bite of that gorgeous pastry, when they called us to the hospital again.
This was for real! The baby was born. An ugly little thing. Stuck too long in the birth canal. But we didn't care. Hop, skip, jump! It was alive. The bruises would go away. And the shape of a baby's head, can't ruin him forever.
Then,. off to Laogone with another sick lady. Why? Maybe because we are addicted to the bouncy trail?!
This poor lady's diagnosis is not quite clear to our doctor. It seemed like she had some sort of whole body infection, along with anemia, and fluid retention. She had arrived with fevers, at times. Her blood pressure held high, for the most part, and she was in a lot of discomfort. We are hoping that she can find a specialist in the Saint Croix hospital in Laogone.
Please pray for her and her partner. He is not a believer, and seems to be very full of fear. She really loved when we prayed with her, and seemed to relax after we spent time with her.
After a day like this, we were all thrilled when Donny and Thea got the gift of a gorgeous handcrafted bread. It means so much when the Haitians are thankful like this!
Have a good week, everyone! We appreciate all that you do for us. God bless you!
-Rhoda for the crew
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